


Indulge Me

by YuriAllDahWay



Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/F, Lemon, Smut, Somewhat lengthy, reversal, suggestive content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-05-01 17:17:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5214221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YuriAllDahWay/pseuds/YuriAllDahWay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Riven, the self-proclaimed Exile, has been wandering the world for quite some time. Now as she walks through Ionia for the first time since the Noxian invasion, she finds herself unexpected company. T for mild content (subject to change in the future).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. Hope you enjoy this story (although it's kind of lengthy). Hopefully the second part will be out quite soon, so bear with me please. Thanks.

Never in a million years would Riven imagine she would be back here.

 

Back in the place where she witnessed the slaughter of many innocents.

 

Back in Ionia, where she had been a field commander serving Noxus.

 

Back when the large scar covering her back did not exist.

 

But here she was, standing in a lush green field overlooking the Ionian capital. The city was bustling with activity, the noises and smells riding the wind towards her direction. Riven inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of native delicacies and a tinge of incense. The breeze galloped beyond and rustled the forest behind her. The branches swayed and touched, whispering to one another. The grass followed suit, dancing. Even the tattered remains of her hooded cloak moved.

 

Yet, Riven stayed still.

 

“So long I have wandered,” Riven mumbled, her piercing red eyes trailing to the outskirts of the city. There, a magnificent grotto filled with lotus trees swayed in the wind. From her position, Riven could hear the faint trickle of a river. Compelled by the beauty of nature, she finally moved from her spot.

 

With every step, Riven remembered every part of her journey thus far. She had traveled far and wide, visiting almost all the major areas of Valoran. After her self-proclaimed exile, she had sought help from Ionians that offered their medicinal services to those who suffered from the Noxian invasion. The Ionians had treated her carefully and professionally. Eventually the searing burn that branded her back like a bull simmered down to an uncomfortable prickle, and Riven had taken her leave under the blanket of night. From there, she had snuck onto boat that took her to a harbor nearby Noxus, where she said her final farewells to the ties that held her to a nation she no longer wanted to serve.

 

She had shattered her sword and threw everything but the hilt into the ocean, watching as the runic, green glow of her past sank into the seafloor. After the waters had returned from an ominous green to a murky blue, Riven finally moved.

 

With every step she took, she found her undying resolve, a burning desire, to reform Noxus into what she believed: a place where true strength, the strength of one's will and conviction, rose above all and underhanded tactics were abolished.

 

The days of her exile passed by, which eventually formed into weeks. Those weeks grew and evolved into months. As time passed, Riven found herself in all sorts of places. She visited the ruins of a building that was once known as the Institute of War; she watched the sun rise above Mount Targon, home to the Rakkor and Solari; foolishly entered Demacia under the guise as a traveler; eventually sailed to the filthy docks of Bilgewater; then, at last, boarded a ship that unexpectedly took her to Ionia.

 

Her thoughts came to a close as Riven stopped moving once more.

 

The rumors she heard about The Lotus Garden never brought it justice.

 

The air was filled with a sweet scent, one that brought a strange scent of ease through her. For once, in her long, long journey, Riven allowed her body to relax to an extent. There she stayed, unmoving, relishing Ionia's beauty. Finally getting out of her trance, she hid her broken blade beneath her cloak. Anyone would recognize her if she carried the hilt of a Noxian buster sword; the size of it was far bigger compared to the skinny blades of the Ionians. Once it was out of sight, Riven entered the Garden.

 

Immediately she was entranced by the beauty surrounding her. Petals scattered all around her, enveloping her in a sweet scent. Her footsteps were muffled by the foliage decorating the ground. Shades of pink and white covered her vision, yet she felt awakened. 

 

No wonder many with clouded hearts come here for sanctum. 

 

Two voices caught the Exile's attention, and Riven looked, noticing exotic clothing with shades of red and purple. Irelia, Captain of the Ionian Guard, and Karma, the Duchess herself, stood under a large lotus tree. They spoke in a tongue foreign to Riven, one she assumed to be the dialect used in this region, and walked on, seeing no reason to linger. 

 

She wandered on for several more minutes, until she came across a pond. Its water was as blue as the sky, its surface reflecting the large tree above it. Riven looked down, startled to see her own image after such a long time. Her snow-white hair was tied back into her usual bun, bangs askew everywhere. Her red eyes held conviction and will, like the principles she valued, but she could not deny the weariness around the edges. Despite how many trials and obstacles she faced—as proven by the scuff marks on her cheeks—Riven knew that the vicissitudes of travel would eventually take their toll. 

 

“How should I proceed?” She mumbled, watching her reflection become distorted as a lone petal rippled the image. Suddenly tempted to touch the water, Riven stooped down and cupped her hands together. She dipped them into the pond, cool water flowing in. In one fluid motion, she washed her face, body tensing on how cold the water truly was. 

 

Nevertheless, it felt nice. 

 

After drying her face with the ripped sleeve of her cloak, she sat down on the lush grass, legs crossed. Positive that no one was around her vicinity, she placed her broken blade across her lap. The runic green markings on her blade throbbed with light and sorcery, giving out a faint hum. Out of habit, she let a calloused finger run over the blade. The metal was smooth and cool, the luster allowing her to see a somewhat clear reflection of herself. The broken edges were jagged, sharp enough to draw blood just from a prickle. Despite its current state, she could still gauge how much time and effort was put into crafting the once immaculate sword. The best was suited only for the best, after all.

 

Riven sighed through her nose.

 

“No more hesitation,” she reminded herself, taking in several breaths. Mediation was a habit that she picked up on during her time in Ionia. A blind monk had told her that meditation brought clarity when one had nowhere to go. It balanced the mind and heart, and reminded oneself of their goals, he said. 

 

Although she perceived Ionia as weak, there were certain principles that she had taking a liking into. 

 

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she took more deep breaths, allowing herself to relax. Her mind became a blank slate, and her thoughts wandered about like the hands traveling up her sides—

 

Wait, what?

 

 

Riven's hands flew to grab at her sides, finding slim wrists in her grasp. She locked them into an iron-grip. 

 

“My, I never knew that a woman could have such a _strong_ grip,” an airy laugh rang in the air, one that caused shivers to scratch at Riven's back. The Noxian gritted her teeth. “But then again,” she felt hot breaths buffet her ear, “you _are_ a Noxian, no?”

 

Instincts kicked in. In a moment, Riven released her hands and gripped her broken blade instead. With lightning-fast reflexes toned from war, she turned around, reached out, and pushed the stranger onto their back. Riven's other hand found the stranger's neck, holding it against the green grass. The sharp edge of Riven's blade was poised in between the stranger's eyes. 

 

Riven stayed still and said nothing. Now that she had a clear look, she could tell the stranger was a female and was rather...unique. The stranger had ears protruding on the top of her head that were the same color of her raven hair, one that shimmered even in the faintest of lights; almond-shaped eyes that were the color of autumn leaves were alluring and enticing, Riven had to admit; three lines on each cheek that resembled the whiskers of a fox; full, red-colored lips were pursed into a pout; and, of course, was her  _very_ voluptuous figure. Even with Riven's near death-grip on the stranger's neck, the Noxian could something soft pressing up against her body. It took incredible will not to look down.

 

“A little defensive, are we?” The woman choked out, voice strained as she struggled for air. 

 

“Who are you?” Riven demanded, eyes narrowing into a sharp glare.

 

The woman beneath giggled despite her situation. “You mean to say you've never heard of me?”

 

“...What do you mean?”

 

Suddenly the stranger's pupils turned into slits. The marks on her cheeks became darker, much more defined. Before Riven could assess what was happening, she found herself being pulled back and pinned against the ground by some arcane force. Her sword slipped from her hand a skidded several feet away, just beyond her hand's reach. The woman climbed on top, an orb of blue energy swirling in her hand. A tail, then eight more, came up from behind her, swishing languidly in the air. 

 

This was a complete turn around from before. 

 

“Do you recognize me, _now_?” The woman asked, a smirk crossing her face. Riven returned the expression with a blank stare, but she knew. 

 

She had heard rumors of certain creatures living in Ionia, ones transformed by the magic, called the Gumiho. They took the forms of humans, but had a certain hunger for humans' life essences. The methods used varied from one to the other, but the most common was seduction or slaughter. In this particular area, there were rumors about a certain Gumiho, one that preyed near The Lotus Garden to feast on those with clouded hearts and blind eyes. Riven paid those rumors no mind, however; she did not believe in those kinds of things.

 

Until now.

 

A finger traced over Riven's tense jawline, trailing down to trace abstract figures on her throat. The Noxian could not help the sudden rise of goosebumps littering her skin.

 

“I haven't gotten an answer from you yet, dear warrior,” the woman beckoned in a saccharine voice, “I'm waaiiiitiiiing….” The drawled out vowels sent shivers down Riven's spine.

 

The Noxian stayed mute and nodded briskly. 

 

“Oh my, so they talk about me around Valoran, do they?” A laugh, far more beautiful than any melody Riven had ever heard, sang through the air. “I'm sure they talk about you too, Noxian. You know,” the fox-woman's eyes narrowed, “they talk about you throughout Ionia.” 

 

Guilt stabbed Riven in the chest. 

 

She knew they did.

 

Who wouldn't, after what she had done?

 

“You're surprisingly mute, now.” The Gumiho tilted her head to the side. “What's wrong, cat got your tongue?” A smirk crossed her face. “Or is it a fox?”

 

Riven felt the need to change the subject quickly. “You never answered my question.” 

 

The stranger's smirk disappeared into a confused pout. Her tails swished with intrigue.

 

“Who are you?” 

 

“I'm known by many names, but the most common one is Ahri.” The blue orb of energy dissipated into the air Ahri bent over to whisper into her ear. “I would ask who you are,” The Noxian felt her body tighten as a pair of lips brushed her earlobe, “but many in this area know _exactly_ who and what you are, _Riven._ ”

 

At the mention of her name, the white-haired warrior lashed upward, trying to fling Ahri off of her. However the bindings that held on to her wrist deterred her from doing so. The fox-woman laughed heartily at the attempt, sitting back up. 

 

“It's been a long while since I've met someone so,” Ahri licked her lips and bit her lower one, grinning a smile that screamed dirty thoughts, “ _frisky_.” 

 

At this point, Riven was getting very irritated. The permanent frown that seemed to be on her face deepened into a furious scowl. Ahri clicked her tongue and traced the Noxian's lips with her thumb. 

 

“A smile would look much better, don't you think?” 

 

“What do you want from me?”

 

The Gumiho gave a “demure” smile. “Isn't it obvious, Riven dear?”

 

The Exile stayed quiet, but she knew what the other wanted from her. It was her soul—

 

“I want your company.” 

 

Riven had nothing to say. Those were certainly not the words that she expected to come out. 

 

“What? You look surprised.” Ahri tilted her head and then laughed. “It's been such a long time since I've had... _strong_ prey.” The ocher color of her eyes glimmered with mischief. “But I want this to last for quite a while.” She bent over so their lips _barely_ touched. Riven could feel the Gumiho's breath tickling her face. “Won't you indulge me, Riven dear?”

 

Riven stayed mute. Noxus had taught her to stay strong, even in the face of desires. 

 

But admittedly, even she was swayed by such temptations. 

 

“Stay,” Ahri mumbled against her lips before closing the distance. The white-haired warrior was taken aback by action and shut her eyes, having nothing else to do; her hands were still bound together. 

 

With each passing minute and kiss, Riven's resolve to stay obstinate melted away. Eventually she found herself returning each action with building fervor and passion. Ahri gave a noise, a cross between a growl and a hum, to signal her pleasure. Such actions reminded Riven of several nights she shared with a certain someone in Noxus.

 

Only then did she realize how much she  missed sharing warmth with someone else.

 

Ahri ended the kiss, much to Riven's dismay, but quickly went to work on the Noxian's neck, nibbling and pecking here and there. The white-haired woman let a growl rip through.

 

Perhaps indulging Ahri for one night won't be so bad.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter of this two-shot. Smut ahead, so you know...take precautions.

Riven gasped for air, wriggling under the Gumiho's touch. Her body was hot with fervor, face flushed.

"It's been a long time since you've done this kind of thing, hasn't it?" Ahri whispered, a grin evident in her tone. The charming ocher—that Riven admittedly fell for—glinted mischievously. Her deft fingers traveled across her body, wandering underneath the rags Riven called clothes. They trekked over her toned stomach, skipped over her ribs, and _barely_ danced on the chest bindings the white-haired warrior wore.

Riven knew she was being toyed with.

She knew she needed to resist.

She knew that giving into such desires was unbecoming of any warrior in any country of any ideal.

But she knew, that despite everything she had been taught, whether it was in Noxus or in Ionia, she was not strong enough to fend off Ahri.

Ahri was truly something else.

"Gah!" Riven gasped, curling her toes and digging her fingers into the dirt. Ahri, who was nibbling on her neck, gave a chuckle. Pulling back, the Gumiho admired the marking she left on the Noxian, a coy smirk playing on her lips.

"Who would have known that such a _strong_ warrior would fall to such a _delicate_ touch," Ahri said slyly, running her hand down Riven's torso to play with the edge of cloth the warrior used as a makeshift skirt.

"Shut up," Riven hissed, secretly anxious for Ahri to proceed. The Nine-Tailed Fox's hand was already where Riven wanted it to be; right between her legs. But, gods forbid, Ahri simply loved to tease her prey, and let her hand tickle the insides of the Noxian's thighs, fingernails running up and down with a feathery touch.

"I don't think you're in such a position to be telling me on what to do," Ahri said in a husky tone, "especially with the way your _body_ is simply _begging_ me to go on." She trailed her hand, her fingers _finally_ touching Riven's—

"Mmf!" Riven bit her tongue, her pride not letting her moan out. Ahri continued to press and rub in _just_ the right areas, making the Noxian warrior see stars from behind her eyelids. Riven wondered when she had closed her eyes.

"Riven dear, you don't have to be ashamed," Ahri whispered into The Exile's ear, "you can call out my name wheneeever you want." Riven could hear the smirk in the Fox's mouth.

"K-Ka—" Riven stopped herself before she could finish, but Ahri heard it. The Gumiho stopped all movement and sat up, removing her weight from the Noxian. Riven opened her eyes quickly, only to find Ahri's blank stare. Riven chastised herself for making such a grave mistake; Kat was long gone from her life.

Suddenly Ahri pressed her fingers against Riven _hard_. The Exile arched in back, not expecting the sudden surge of pleasure coursing through her veins.

"I told you to call out _my_ name," Ahri reminded, her tails swishing dangerously. The ocher color of her eyes were clouded with lust, and the whiskers on her cheeks were even more defined. A lulling smirk was on Ahri's lips.

Riven could feel herself slipping into a trance.

She was getting charmed.

"Come now, Riven dear," Ahri cooed, her fingers still doing their busywork on Riven, "say _my_ name."

Feeling her resolve crumble with the constant bombardment of pleasure and the spell, Riven forced herself to swallow despite her dry throat. "A-Ahri…."

The Nine-Tailed Fox cocked her head to the side, full lips turning down into a frown. "Hm? What was that?" Her fingers lightened their pressure and Riven just _hated_ the whimper that escaped her mouth. Ahri, hearing it loud and clear, smirked and pushed on that bundle of nerves through Riven's clothing.

The Noxian bucked her hips, her back arching off the ground. "A-Ahri!" Her strained voice made Ahri chuckle lowly.

"That's better," the Gumiho mumbled. She put her weight back on Riven, rubbing faster, harder. The Noxian grunted through clenched teeth, feeling a tightening just underneath her abdomen, somewhere near her pelvic area. Her cries got louder and louder as she curled her toes and arched her back, pushing her body against Ahri's. The tightening was getting tauter and tauter, so close to release—

Until Ahri stopped.

To say Riven was furious was an understatement. The Noxian resisted against her restraints, curses fleeing her mouth quicker than any sword strike. Vulgar sayings spewed out nonstop, until Ahri forcibly kissed her. Riven could feel the Gumiho's tongue play with hers, and the cries of anger transformed into mewls of pleasure.

Those who haven't experienced such a thing could hardly imagine the talent the Nine-Tailed Fox was capable of.

Now Riven could feel the buildup returning, even stronger this time. She felt Ahri's hand go back to where it was previously. Her body shook with uncontrollable spasms as Ahri brought her to orgasm.

Riven never felt more liberated in her life.

"I wouldn't have guessed you would have acted so... _violently_ if I stopped," the fox purred, removing her fingers and trailing them across Riven's abdomen. The Noxian could feel a slimy texture in their wake.

Riven blushed.

Did she just have sex with a complete stranger?

"I...uh...I," Her words were completely lost to her, emotions of frustration (of many calibers), shame, and arousal swirling in her chest.

"Hm? Fox got your tongue?" Ahri laughed gaily, placing playful pecks on Riven's jawline. The Noxian tensed up for a split second, then completely melted when she felt the soft fur of Ahri's tails envelop her. Riven could feel her eyelids growing heavier, the corners of her world growing darker and darker.

"Thank you for indulging me," mumbled the Fox.

It was the last thing Riven heard before her conscience slipped from her.

-x-

Riven woke with a start. She bounced onto her feet, reaching for her sword that always hung on her hip, hidden by her tattered cloak.

Her hand gripped at nothing.

Confusion and panic took Riven's body. Frantically, she looked around, patting her sides and twirling in circles like a dog.

Riven cursed. "Where can it be?" She growled, running her hand through her hair.

She paused.

She ran her hand through her hair again.

It wasn't tied up.

Now Riven was very confused. When was the last time she let her hair down?

"You look confused, Riven dear." A voice called out, hidden behind the many lotus trees surrounding the Noxian. "Have you forgotten something, perhaps?"

"Ahri?" Riven asked. She could feel a sense of familiarity as she uttered the name.

Suddenly, everything came back to her.

She could feel the sudden rush of embarrassment and adrenaline as Ahri emerged from behind a tree, carrying Riven's precious blade in her hands. The Gumiho had a faint smile on her lips as she slowly sauntered her way over to the Noxian.

"You're lucky I'm stronger than I seem," Ahri began, tying the broken sword around Riven's hips. The white-haired warrior stayed still like a statue. "Had Irelia and Karma found you there, you would have been as good as dead." She looked up and brushed away a stray bang that fell in front of Riven's haunting red eyes. The Noxian could see Ahri's ocher eyes glistening sentimentally.

Riven felt strangely moved.

"Why did you save me?" The Noxian asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but Ahri was able to hear her clearly; it didn't bother Riven that the Fox was so close to her.

"Why did you stay with me?" Ahri countered coyly.

For once, Riven actually smiled. "Why not?"

Ahri laughed, then gave Riven a kiss filled with more tenderness than the Noxian had ever known. It sent warmed her chest, and a fluttering feeling she didn't dislike moved her stomach.

"Visit me again, why don't you?" The Fox murmured, "I'll be waiting."

Then, Ahri rushed away, leaving a strong gust in her wake. Riven took in a breath, taking in the Fox's scent.

In that moment she realized that perhaps, one day, Noxus and Ionia could repair their relations. That perhaps, they could form a peace that could spread to other nations, and perhaps even Demacia. It was a farfetched thought, the white-haired warrior realized, but it was one that she enjoyed.

She placed a hand on the handle of her blade. The worn leather was a comforting feel.

"What is broken can be reforged," Riven muttered, the ghost of Ahri's lips still on hers.


End file.
